The Well That Answers Late

Elsie found a tiny white sock hanging on the lowest branch of the plum tree. It had come off her new baby sister's foot.

Pip was asleep in the sling on Mum's front, under the heavy plums. Mum was picking, one plum at a time, into a basket.

Elsie wanted one thing. She wanted Pip to smile at her. Just once.

First she held up a purple plum. "Look, Pip! The best one!"

Pip stared at it. Her face went crumply.

"She can't eat that yet, love," said Mum, and she kept picking.

Next Elsie sang her loudest song, the one about the cow. "MOO, MOO, MOO!"

Pip's mouth opened wide. "Waaaah!"

"Oh dear," said Elsie.

She walked away between the trees until she came to the old stone well. Everybody knew the well answered a second late. Elsie leaned over the edge. "Hello!" she called.

The well waited. Then it said, Hello!

Elsie sneezed by accident. "Atchoo!"

The well waited. Then it went, Atchoo! It sounded very polite about it.

Elsie sat down on the grass. Pip had stopped crying when Elsie went quiet, she remembered. Maybe Pip liked soft sounds. Maybe Pip liked the well.

She ran back. "Mum! Can we bring Pip to the well? Please?"

Mum looked at her, and then she nodded.

At the well, Elsie held Pip's tiny hand. It was like a little starfish. She leaned in and whispered, "Hello, Pip."

The well waited. Then it whispered, Hello, Pip.

Pip's eyes went round. She looked at the well. She looked at Elsie.

"Hello, Pip," Elsie whispered again.

Hello, Pip, said the well, a second late.

Pip's whole face went soft, and out came a giggle, a bubbly one. Elsie laughed too. Down in the dark, the well gave one more giggle, a second late.